He was big and black and climbing in a directly upward path on a brightly painted white fence. Behind him was the stone floor and ahead of him were the knots in the wood, the top of the painted fence, and the foliage of the overhanging trees.
The ant is a worker, known for his persistent ethic, and his strength.
He could have stayed below, travelled the flat path of the stone floor, muddled about looking for scraps of something. But down there he would risk being trampled and likely only ever find the same as any other insect might find. The dangers on the ground are much greater and the potential fruits of the search more ordinary. Instead he chooses the upward climb, because up high above it all is where he might find the extraordinary, a little something out of reach to the other insects who choose the flat easy travels on the ground.
Who knows what is so interesting about the climb, or what he might find at the top of the fence, or inside the leaves and branches of the trees above. No idea. But I like his style. That little big ant.
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